


Chapter 4

by mggislife2789



Series: What Did I Get Myself Into? [4]
Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: After two months of dating, Spencer and the reader get to know each other on a deeper level.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

After you and Spencer had divulged some of your deepest fantasies to each other, he still insisted that you get to know each other, both in general and in bed, before jumping into any of the things you’d discussed. You’d learned a lot about him. He had been through hell on more than one occasion while on the job. Kidnapped, shot, tortured - you named it and it had happened to him, at least once. Hesitatingly, he also confided that after he’d been kidnapped and tortured by a serial killer more than a decade ago, he had gotten hooked on dilauded, which the killer had shot him up with numerous times over the course of two days. Some days, he claimed to still feel the pull of the drug, but he hadn’t used since he quit all those years ago - no matter what life had thrown at him.

Your mouth dropped open in horror when he recounted the ordeal, but you made him promise that if he ever felt the pull again, he’d come talk to you.  
“I promise, Y/N,” he said, kissing you tenderly. “Thank you.”

“So...” you started, not wanting to push if he didn’t want to talk about it, “Can I ask about your parents and going to college at such a young age? When I mentioned it before, you seemed to ignore the subject, but I would like to know more about your childhood.”

He gathered you in his arms and sat flush up against his bookshelf, having ended up there after a pillow fight that left you both in stitches. Taking a deep breath, he began, “Well, I did say that my mom had schizophrenia, right?” You nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it; this was obviously difficult for him to talk about. “She was not medicated well for a really long time. More than once, she’d have an episode where the voices were really horrible and she’d sleep a lot. Sometimes I would even have an issue at school and be late, but she wouldn’t realize it because she was too deep in her head.”

Leaning into his neck, you tilted up, kissing his neck, “I’m so sorry.” You squeezed his hand again, convincing him to continue. “My dad left when I was 12. He couldn’t take my mother’s issues anymore and he really didn’t know how to talk to or take care of me, so I kind of raised myself for a time.”  
“So you don’t talk to your dad?” you asked sadly. You couldn’t imagine - you and your father were very close.

“No, not really,” he shrugged, having apparently come to terms with his relationship with his father. “We aired things out a few years ago, but we still don’t talk that much. He missed too much of my life.”

Reaching back, you grabbed a handful of his hair, massaging his scalp. “And how are you with your mom now? Is she on the right medication?”  
That made him smile. “Yea, mom and I are good. It was tough when I was around 18, because I put her in an institution at home in Las Vegas against her will. She was mad at me for a little while, but once she was medicated properly, she knew I had done what I did because I love her. I’d like you to meet her one day, I think she’d love you. She loves people who are straightforward.”

“I’d love to meet her one day,” you said, spinning around to face him, straddling his lap with your knees on the outside of his. “You don’t think she would look down on me for my job?” you asked, always worried that people would make assumptions.

“No,” he replied instantly, “As a matter of fact, I think she would ask a lot of questions. Actually, when you do have that conversation, I don’t think I want to be in the room.”

You laughed, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. “What about school?”

“That’s even tougher for some reason. Probably because my mom had a diagnosable problem. There was no excuse for what I went through,” he said, looking down and swallowing hard. He had obviously tried to forget the terror he had endured as a child prodigy. “I don’t know even know where to start. I was made fun of and called all types of names on a constant basis, but the worst was...” He started to choke up, the words catching in his throat. 

You caressed his face in both your hands, peppering it with soft, gentle kisses. “Take your time, Spence,” you whispered.

Having taken a few cleansing breaths, he started up again. “Once, when I was 13, this girl I liked asked me to meet her behind the gym. She was easily the prettiest girl in school, so I was excited. When I got back there, she asked me to put a blindfold on, so I did...” With his next breath, the tears started falling. You just pressed your forehead against his, hoping it was enough to get him through.

“Once I had the blindfold on, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and all of a sudden I heard a bunch of people snickering. All of the popular kids had showed up and started laughing, including her, and once I took the blindfold off, they stripped me of everything but my underwear and tied me to the flagpole. I wasn’t able to free myself until later that night and my mom was having an episode, so she didn’t even realize I was missing.”

You closed your eyes and started to cry yourself. Children could be so cruel. “Oh, baby,” you said, kissing him, tasting a mixture of both of your tears, “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horrible.”

“It was,” he breathed, the tension of telling the tale falling away with your soft touches, “but it’s over now. And look at me now. They suck and I have you.”

“Yes, you do. And we have to make blindfolds fun for you again. I want to erase that memory from your head, or at least replace it with something fun.”

Easing back into the bookcase, Spencer moved his hand under your tank top, gently stroking the skin on your lower back. Your small intake of breath caught his attention and he pressed down on the area, pulling you into him. His other hand traveled up into your hair, gently tugging back to expose your neck to his affections. You moaned happily as he kissed at the flesh behind your ear. As he sat up, holding you close and placing you on your back on the rug at the foot of his bookcase, he looked up and down your body, silently asking if you were ready for this - for him.

His lean frame hovered over yours and you answered his silent plea by gliding your hands to the buttons at his chest, slowly undoing them. “I want you,” you breathed, thinking it was one of the most sincere things you’d ever uttered.

The look of hesitation in his eyes disappeared and he grasped the side of your neck in his hand, his mouth following suit, sucking and licking down your neck and in between your breasts. A small whimper escaped your lips as his nimble fingers nudged your shirt and bra upwards, revealing your upper half to his hungry gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he muttered, kneading your breasts in his hands.

“Please.”

With your pleas ringing in his ears, he latched his mouth around one of your nipples and continued to knead the other breast. The sensations he evoked throughout your body were ones you’d never experienced with someone else and you found your hand traveling downward, inching into your underwear, desperate to bring about some kind of release.

Spencer grabbed your wrist in his hand, easing it away from your jeans and he looked up, “I’d like to be the one to do that if you don’t mind,” he smiled, kissing just above the waistband of your jeans. “But I would like to watch you do that one day.”

“Do you wanna watch me masturbate, Spencer Reid?” you giggled, feeling the heat spread faster from your core. Your body enjoyed the thought of him watching you lose yourself apparently. Dawn would flip if she could be inside your head right now.

As he licked his lips, he peeled your jeans and panties off, casually throwing them behind him without ever taking his eyes off of you. “Very much so,” he groaned, divesting himself of the rest of his clothing, “but that’ll be another day.”

“Please,” you whimpered again, “I need you inside me.” Without another thought or word, he slipped inside your slick heat, causing your pelvis to grind upward, desperate to get closer. “Oh, god, Spencer...” you moaned.

“I love hearing my name on your lips,” he mumbled into your mouth. As he began to pick up pace, you dug your fingers into his shoulder blades and bit your lip, trying not to scream out and draw unwanted attention to his apartment. You couldn’t believe that after 30 years, you were about to have your first orgasm with someone else; he knew you were close. His right hand moved in between your bodies, applying a slight, but consistent pressure to your clit, which, along with long strokes, sent you over the edge in a matter of minutes.

You noticed that as soon as you climaxed, Spencer all but stopped, staring at your arched back and waiting for you to ride out your high. As your back eased down, touching the soft rug underneath, you reached down to stroke his length and soon after, he realized his own release.

Out of breath and closer than ever, Spencer reached toward the couch to grab a blanket, wrapping it around both of you. He pulled you into him once more and spent, both emotionally and physically, you fell asleep in each other’s arms under the shining rays of the moonlight streaming through his apartment window.


End file.
